Chapter 12

12

ISOLDE

T he room was bathed in soft moonlight, its silver glow spilling across the ornate furniture and casting long shadows along the walls. Isolde sat gingerly on a pillow in the padded window seat in her room, her thoughts a tangled mess as she stared at the untouched book in her lap. Sleep had been elusive ever since the confrontation with Callum earlier that evening. Every sharp word and every heated glance between them lingered in her mind like a haunting refrain.

And to top it all off, the bastard had spanked her and had made sure she knew he meant it. The worst part had been the feeling of arousal that had infused her system as he did so. And the fact that she had been sent to her room without any kind of discussion or physical release from what he had done was just the cherry on top. More frustrated than she’d ever been in her life, she threw the book across the room.

A movement outside the window caught her attention and she looked to see what it might be. There, galloping across the manicured lawns, was an enormous black panther. Her pulse stuttered, and she opened her mouth to scream. A beat later, she closed it, intrigue overriding her first instinctive panic.

The sleek, black shape moved across the grounds, its powerful body gliding through the night with an otherworldly grace. Large, smooth, and utterly out of place against the carefully trimmed hedges and pristine flowerbeds. The creature moved with purpose, its tail swishing behind it as it carried something in its mouth.

Clothing? At this distance, she couldn’t be positive.

Isolde gripped the windowsill, her mind struggling to reconcile the wild beast with the world she had come to know. The panther slowed as it reached a patch of moonlit grass, its form suddenly engulfed by a swirling mist that seemed to rise from the ground itself. Her breath caught in her throat as the mist thickened, obscuring the animal entirely.

And then the impossible happened.

The mist began to dissipate, and where the panther had stood, a man now emerged. Tall, broad-shouldered, and naked, his dark hair and sharp features unmistakable even from this distance.

Callum.

Isolde gripped the windowsill with all her might, her fingers cramping from the strength she was using as her mind raced to comprehend what she’d just witnessed. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. And yet, there he was, standing in the moonlight, the same bundle of what she was now sure was his discarded clothing clutched in one hand as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred.

She watched in stunned silence as Callum disappeared into the shadows, heading toward the mansion with the same deliberate stride that always seemed to command the space around him. Her shock quickly gave way to a need to know. She needed answers, but a part of her already believed she had at least some of them. Siobhan had once told her tales of large black panthers that roamed throughout Ireland and the rest of the United Kingdom. She had even suggested that they were descendants of shape-shifting creatures that could change from an animal form to human and back again. Isolde had written it off as a fairytale, but given what she’d just seen, her friend might not have been making anything up.

Isolde rose from the window seat and made her way to the door into the hallway. The upstairs hallway was dimly lit, the soft glow of sconces illuminating the rich wood paneling and plush runner underfoot. Isolde stepped out of her room, her heart pounding as she made her way toward the staircase. She didn’t have far to go. Callum was already at the top of the stairs, his shirt half-buttoned, his dark hair still damp from what she could only assume was the night air.

“Callum!” she called, her voice sharper than she intended.

He paused mid-step, raising his head so his gaze locked onto hers. For a moment, he didn’t move, his expression unreadable as he watched her descend toward him.

“Isolde,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “What are you doing awake?”

“What am I doing awake?” she echoed, her hands tightening around the banister. “That’s a foolish question. It’s not that late. I think the better question is, what were you doing outside?”

He arched an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint grin. “I wasn’t aware my movements required an explanation.”

She stepped closer, her pulse racing. “Don’t play coy with me, Callum. I saw you.”

“Saw me?” His smile faded, replaced by something colder. “And what exactly do you think you saw?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, the memory of the transformation still fresh in her mind. “I saw… a panther. Running across the lawn. And then—then there was mist, and you were there. Naked. How is that possible? How could—” She broke off, shaking her head as if trying to make sense of it herself. “What are you?”

The silence between them was unsettling with things left unsaid. Callum proceeded down the hallway, his movements deliberate as he came to stand before her. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for the first time, she saw something unguarded there. Something primal and unguarded.

He nodded. “Then once again you’ve seen something you shouldn’t have,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “I suspect you have questions. I need a shower. You can either follow me to my bedroom, or once I’m cleaned up I can join you in yours.”

“I think I have a right to know,” she demanded softly.

“Why, mo chroi ? Because you recognize there is something more between us than either of us ever thought possible?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Callum snorted. “I think you do, but I’m too wired to take you to task for lying to me.”

“Me? Lying to you? That’s a crock. You turned into some kind of enormous, predatory beast. I’m pretty sure you never mentioned that. I mean, you’re not human.”

“I’m both,” he said simply, his tone devoid of apology. “And neither. It is not something that my kind shares readily with yours. There are many…”

Isolde waved off his argument. “I can imagine the consequences, and they aren’t pretty. I take it you are not the only one of your kind?”

“Isolde, I need a cold shower. Shifting only increases arousal. I thought if I took a run and then a cold shower, it would help. It hasn’t. Unless you want to share my bed tonight, go to your room and stay there. We will talk in the morning.”

Isolde shook her head, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “You should have told me.”

“And risked losing the one shred of trust you have in me?” He took a step closer, his voice softening. “You’re already in over your head, Isolde. Knowing this… it only makes things more dangerous.”

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she searched his face, looking for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted. “And what am I supposed to do with this? Pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend you’re just a man?”

Callum’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t expect you to pretend anything. But I do expect you to trust me. With your life. I think I’ve earned that.”

She stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of fear, disbelief, and something she couldn’t quite name. The pull she felt toward him—the heat that always simmered just beneath the surface—only seemed to grow stronger, even now.

Especially now.

“Trust,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re asking a lot.”

“I’m offering a lot,” he countered, his voice a low growl. “Your safety, your survival. All of it depends on me. And you know it.”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do,” she admitted, her voice trembling with truth.

Callum reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a gesture so uncharacteristically gentle it stole her breath. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, leaving her standing alone, her world forever changed.

CALLUM

Callum wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this tired—emotionally, mentally and physically. He knew shifting usually left the shifter aroused, but he’d convinced himself that a long run would help him clear his head. It had done that and now forefront in both his human and panther brain was the belief that Isolde was not only his to protect, but his to claim and possess.

After he stripped out of his clothes, he sent Con a quick message:

Isolde saw me shift. I do not believe she is a threat to our kind.

The response was immediate and not at all helpful.

Do what you want, but I suggest you claim the girl and be done with it.

Yeah, boss, that’ll go over big with her and her father. On the other hand, Con had given him the leeway to do what he thought best.

Stepping into the shower, Callum set the water as cold as it would get. It was somewhat refreshing, but it wasn’t having any effect on his cock whatsoever. The panther prowling in his mind sure as hell wasn’t helping. Usually his beast was willing to settle after a long run, but it stalked restlessly in his mind, now, growling with frustration.

His throbbing cock reminded him that it was in need of attention. A drop of pre-cum glistened and then fell to be washed away by the water going down the drain. Regardless of the temperature of the water, he couldn’t get his mind to focus on anything other than Isolde’s beauty and intelligence as well as the feel of her ass under his hand. He had smelled her arousal kick in and berated himself for not doing what had felt natural: stepping behind her and shoving his cock deep as he rode her to a release for both of them. He tried to focus on the fact that at they had no formal relationship, and at the time, she had not known he was a shifter.

She didn’t know the first thing about him, whispered the angel on his shoulder. The devil on the other shoulder laughed. She might not understand fated mates, but her soul had recognized its master almost from the beginning. As frightened of him as she’d been, instinctively she’d known she could trust him and that he would protect her. She might say differently, but there had been plenty of times she could have gone to the cops, and she hadn’t.

His cock throbbed again. The damn thing actually ached. Knowing the only relief he would get this night was from his hand, he wrapped it around his staff and began to stroke from base to tip and back again. He would get a handle on his unruly lust. He would ensure Isolde’s safety and then he would consider how best to claim her.

He grinned as he closed his eyes. At least he had the boss on his side. Until they knew what Bradford and Lynch were up to, he would check his amorous intentions. Picking up the pace of his stroking, he squeezed a bit harder, thinking he would much prefer it to be Isolde’s pussy clamping around him. He would put her on her belly, pull her up onto her knees and mount her from behind, pounding into her until she was thoroughly sated and he allowed himself to spill his seed into her.

Warm semen jettisoned out of his cock in a steady stream as he pumped himself empty and finally relaxed, leaning back and adjusting the shower to lukewarm to clean himself up. Feeling more in control, he stepped out of the shower and dried off and headed for his bed.

As he laid down, he thought that sleep would be elusive, but he was wrong. Sleep and his dreams claimed him almost at once.

“You will obey me in all things, Isolde,” he growled.

She struggled against him, but she was no match to his strength and power. He growled in her ear, rumbling low, and felt her naked body quiver in response. Her defiance was palpable, but Callum didn’t care. Isolde was his, and he would take what was his. There was no way she would win, as her desire trumped her willfulness. She had known her master from the start.

He hadn’t allowed himself to fully embrace who and what she was to him, but in this dream there were no consequences. Her arousal and readiness dripped from her pussy and her clit and labia were swollen and wet. He thrust into her, making her yowl in supplication.

As he grabbed the back of her neck with his teeth, his fangs elongated and he sank them into her neck, holding her in place as he pounded into her. Callum wrapped his hands around her hips as her well-spanked ass rose and fell beneath his hips. He could feel the heat radiating off her buttocks, and it only increased his ardor.

Isolde had stumbled into his territory, put herself in danger and defied him when he thought to keep her safe.

“You’re mine, Isolde,” he said, loosening his grip before sinking his teeth in again and shaking her slightly.

“Yes, Callum,” she wailed.

With those words, any remnants of doubt or hesitation vanished into thin air. Their bodies collided into one another once more, fusing together in a dance as old as time itself. Pleasure washed over them in waves. With a primal growl, Callum thrust in and out of her, reveling in her tightness. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of ecstasy coursing through his veins.

Callum set a rhythm that matched the beating of their hearts. Every thrust brought them closer to the precipice, to the edge where bliss and oblivion merged.Their bodies moved with an innate synchrony, a harmony born from a longing so profound it transcended mere physicality. They were lost in a world of sensation, where time ceased to exist, and nothing mattered but the pleasure they gave to one another.

The intoxicating scent of sex flooded the air.The walls of her pussy encapsulated his cock, spasming and tightening with every thrust. Isolde felt like a siphon around him, begging to be filled.

He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust deeper, harder, faster. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, drowning out any semblance of rational thought. It was as if they’d entered a realm where only their desires mattered, where the only goal was to push each other to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

With every stroke, Callum could feel her unraveling beneath him. Her body trembled, her breathing became erratic, and he knew she was teetering on the edge. He wanted nothing more than to see her come undone, to prove to her that their bodies were in complete and harmonious sync.

Callum reached beneath her to put pressure on her swollen clit with his thumb, circling it in teasing motions that elicited a throaty moan from somewhere deep inside Isolde. Her muscles tightened around him, drawing him in further as if begging for release. And when he finally granted her wish, it was as if an explosion ripped through both of them.

Her back arched up into his, and a primal scream escaped her lips as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Callum felt her ride out her climax, her orgasm triggering his own—a torrential flood that consumed him completely.

Callum collapsed onto the mattress, and didn’t stir until the morning light awakened him. The night had seemed to provide all he needed. He would claim what was his, and damn anyone who got in his way.